The Branches of Yggdrasil
by Ione
Summary: Thirteen months after the abrupt end to the Skrull invasion, strange things are happening in all the Realms. As the Convergence draws near, they threaten to unleash chaos on every planet. One person can help, but can Jane convince Loki to put aside his fury and resentment to help her save the Universe? Sequel to World Under Siege.
1. Chapter One

_Pulling into the driveway, she smelled ozone. She left everything in the car—including her keys—and ran through the kitchen and living room straight to the backyard. _

_There was no letter waiting for her._

_Thor was._

()()()

The world stopped. There was no time, no motion. The breeze on Jane's face disappeared. Every leaf on every tree was still. The waves were silent. No birds sang. Even the air in her lungs was stale; she couldn't breathe. She stood staring at him, watching him stare at her.

She had eternity to look at him, study his features—his longer hair, braided back from his face—to remember just how _big_, how physically intimidating he was. Looking at him, their surroundings faded to utter insignificance. The greens, blues, and whites of the world were pale in comparison to him, vivid in gold and red and gray. He was the only thing in focus, so sharp she saw every detail, down to the tiny new scar that puckered just under his left temple. Jane had all the time in the world to recall all the words they'd spoken, each time they'd touched, every smile they'd exchanged.

Then her body remembered how his felt, and suddenly all she wanted to do was feel him again.

He didn't move as she stepped forward. He didn't flinch as her hand came up to rest on the soft stubble of his cheek. All she felt was a momentary flex of muscle in his jaw as she trailed her hand down—to his chin, to his neck. Then she felt his heartbeat and the warm surge of blood under the skin.

"Thor," she breathed. "Thor."

His hand came up, rested on hers. Her bones felt hollow under the strength of his grip; her skin felt like paper. But his strength was always tempered to her weakness. The pressure of his hand was warm and insistent, but not painful. His fingers slipped between hers, and her whole body shivered.

One pull, and he had her resting against him. The arms enfolding her were warm; the bare skin of them was soft. Her cheek rested against a smooth, cold metal disk on his chest. Jane's eyes closed, but that somehow brought the reality of him even closer. She remembered how he smelled—warm leather, cold metal, sharp spices, clean sweat—and she pulled it all in. The tension that had braced her against the idea that this wasn't really happening, that it was all just a dream, disappeared. He was _here_, he was _real_.

She breathed. It came out like a sob. His arms tightened around her, and for a moment, the pressure of his arms was too much. Then she heard his own breaths coming short and ragged, like hers.

"Jane," she felt the word rumbling deep in his chest, buried under his armor.

She held him in silence for a moment longer, before her brain reminded her of the last time they'd spoken face-to-face. A laugh built inside her, silent at first but then shaking her shoulders as it spilled from her mouth.

So much for romance. "I'm so glad I don't have to hit you," she said, the words gasping out between her breathless laughter. "I'd've done it, of course, but it would've hurt me way more than you."

Thor chuckled too. "I think your precise words were, "smack me upside the head". In truth, I am glad you are not considering that either." He smiled. "Though, of course, for your sake and not mine. No true warrior fears a blow dealt in justice."

The world resumed its normal pace; the spell of finding a god in her backyard was broken. Now Jane was only taken aback by the sheer oddity of it. Thor didn't belong in this tropical hole-in-the-wall town, any more than he'd belonged in Puente Antiguo. She took a step back, pushing a loose wave of hair behind her ear and hoping her hand could shield her trembling mouth from him. His presence, welcome as it was, was also overwhelming.

"So…" she felt unaccountably shy, "what brings you here? Last I heard you weren't much closer to completing the Bifrost and Odin wasn't entirely on board with the idea of me going to Asgard even if it were. And…" she looked down, noting the unburnt grass beneath Thor's feet, "I don't see a mark."

Thor hesitated. It was so unlike his usual forthright nature that Jane felt herself move from shy to anxious in a heartbeat.

"It is true. The Bifrost is still several weeks from completion; I used Tesseract energy for my journey. However, circumstances made it necessary that I come for you sooner."

Now she was curious. "You _need _me? For what?" She doubted she could be much help in constructing a machine capable of opening a stable wormhole—the physics of it were far beyond any human alive—and beyond that…what could Asgard possibly require from a mortal?

He stiffened, hand caressing Mjolnir's handle where it hung from his belt. "I would rather tell you that when we are beyond the reach of eavesdroppers."

"Wha—" her question snapped off as a sudden gust of stormy air rippled the bushes and trees around them. Cleverly concealed in the greenery were no fewer than six SHIELD agents. And she recognized one receding hairline in particular.

"Coulson!" she cried, angry enough to stamp her foot like a toddler, "For God's sake!"

He made his way out from a thicket of three palm trees, nonchalantly patting his hair into place. He nodded at the two of them, inscrutable behind the ubiquitous sunglasses every agent insisted on sporting. "Miss Foster. Thor." His gaze lingered on the god and Jane could have sworn she saw his jaw tighten to hold back a grin. "Good to see you again."

"Son of Coul," he replied, "I thought I told you not to harry my Jane."

Jane had a moment to blush at the possessive pronoun before she answered him herself. "SHIELD embraces technicalities. You told them to return my equipment, and they did. The "leave her alone" subtext, they chose to ignore. And with no one here to make them, well…"

"Strange bursts of Tesseract energy manifesting in your backyard wasn't something we could ignore, even if we wanted to," he replied placidly. "They might have been a threat to Miss Foster."

"Asgard has been guarding the Tesseract faithfully since it left Midgard. No one who wishes Jane harm could have gained access to it."

"You must forgive us for being skeptical," Coulson shrugged, "but we had to see for ourselves. Being Aesir is no guarantee of peaceful intentions towards Earth. And we couldn't take the chance that your prisoner hadn't gained access to the Cube either, especially since you didn't tell us how he would be guarded. Or about anything else, for that matter."

Thor frowned and the skies darkened, quiet thunder rumbling in from the sea. "Loki has not left his dungeon cell since my father put him in it. Though your technologies are incapable of restraining him, ours are not."

"Are you sure about that? Maybe that's what he wants you to think. He enjoyed making us think so, many times over."

Jane was very tired of this Midgard/Asgard pissing contest. She sighed. "What are you doing here, Coulson?"

"Besides responding to a Level 3 energy discharge that left an alien signature on our planet? We have monitored enough of your correspondence to know that you intend to travel to Asgard. Director Fury cannot allow a lone civilian to leave the planet, especially with so many unexplained incidences happening worldwide. You may not like it, Miss Foster," he finished, shrugging, "but you are an asset, and one we don't intend to lose. You may be one of the only people who can help us save the world."

She felt Thor stir beside her, ready to leap into the fray in her defense. But her courage was more than equal to Coulson's pale threats. "I already did that once," she replied, torn between burgeoning anger and a tiny streak of preening pride at his flattery. After so many years being a laughingstock, it was refreshing to have someone acknowledge her skills. "I don't think SHIELD has any claim on me in the event of another apocalypse. And there's _no way_ you can stop me leaving the planet if I want to."

"So you just intend to abandon Earth?"

Coulson's displeasure was icy, but Jane remembered SHIELD's various entreaties and threats after the war had ended, and steeled herself against remorse. "I don't intend to abandon anything or anybody. What I do intend to do is live my life without being dictated to by a bunch of goose-stepping soldiers in black suits."

Jane stepped back and hooked her arm around Thor's elbow. "You wanted to talk somewhere private? Then let's go." She tugged him towards the house, pointedly ignoring Coulson and his flanking agents.

"Jane," Thor said doubtfully, once inside the flimsy protection of the sliding door, "they must surely have the means to monitor you concealed somewhere in your house."

She scoffed. "Of course they do," she crossed the room and picked up her ready-packed bag. Her smile when she turned back to him was wicked. "But not in _yours._"

He caught her meaning. His smile broadened and he laughed. Jane stepped back under the shelter of his arm and let her smile show to Coulson, looking in at the window.

"Heimdall!" the cry broke through the clouds and Jane could imagine it rippling through space. She had a moment to feel panic, vertigo, and a sense of _I shouldn't have done that, oh no_; but Thor's arm was tight around her and they were already tunneling through space, clear blue energy wrapping them in a bubble of breathable air and manageable pressure.

The fear of the moment vanished. Jane laughed and didn't stop as their journey ricocheted them past planets, through nebulae, and beyond phenomena she had no names for. The images flashed by almost too quickly to be seen, but she felt no sensation of speed; no g-force, no pressure, no difficulty breathing. Was space moving, or were they?

_Six hundred ninety-seven light years_, she thought, and her feet slammed hard against a crystalline path vibrant with flickering rainbow shades. Her brain reeled, trying to reconcile three things: having just moments ago been in Hilo, Hawaii; rocketing through more space than any human had ever dreamed of doing; and then having Asgard right in front of her.

She was still laughing. Hysteria threatened to swamp her, but she pulled back on it hard, and managed to croak, "I'd give anything to see Coulson's _face_!"

"It is quite worth seeing," a deep voice interposed, shocking away Jane's lingering chuckles, "I wish I could share the sight."

Jane turned, looking up into the brilliant eyes of a golden giant. Those eyes…she had known him by name only, but those eyes…they looked through her and beyond her, as though they could read the secrets of stars and lives on planets that no one else knew.

_Not "as though"_, Jane reminded herself, _he can really do that._

"Heimdall," she said, nodding respectfully, "It's…it's nice to meet you." Unease prickled in her stomach at her inadequate words. What if Thor's father was right, and she had no place in Asgard? She didn't speak well, didn't know etiquette—if the etiquette here was anywhere near what it was on Earth—couldn't make small talk…what kind of representative would she be?

The guardian smiled, a tiny expression that regardless broke the still solemnity of his endless gaze. "The pleasure is mine also, Jane Foster," he returned her nod. His smile grew wider as she nibbled her lip and wondered what else to say. "Do not fear. Anyone who comes to know you will recognize your worth. Even our King."

Jane swallowed. "Can you read minds, too?" she wouldn't put it beyond the power of those penetrating eyes.

"Every erring boy once thought so," Thor murmured, a rueful smile twisting his mouth. Heimdall merely glanced at his prince and Thor grew even more bashful. "But no. Heimdall has the gift of sight; not of foresight or mindsight."

"I have stood watch over the Nine Realms for centuries uncounted, Miss Foster," his face grew solemn again and Jane felt the terrible truth in his words, "but sight alone is worthless without the power to observe."

_Very Holmesian, _she thought. "Well," she swallowed for her bone-dry throat and to get rid of the thousand million questions she wanted to ask about the exact scope of his power, "I'll have to trust you on that, then." Though she wasn't sure how much faith she put in a man with magical telescope eyes. However, if she trusted a magical energy cube that had launched her through nearly seven hundred million light years' worth of space, she might as well just go ahead and permanently suspend all her disbelief.

"You need not trust me, Miss Foster," Heimdall replied, still serious. Every word he spoke seemed etched in stone. "Merely trust yourself."

She nodded, feeling her mouth tremble again. "I'll try." It was all she could give either of them, at the moment. She managed a weak smile. "But I'd rather Odin trusted me."

Heimdall frowned. "You have not told her?"

"There was no chance," Thor said, shaking his head, "as I'm sure you saw. I judged it best that Earth at large not know of our troubles until we have a chance to know the full extent of them ourselves."

"Thor," Jane said, touching his arm. His face as he looked at her was far more grim than she'd thought to see. All the wonder—from their incredible journey, from the incredible sight before her—leeched away from her in a cold, sickening rush. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He hesitated again. "I would rather have my mother's assistance in telling you."

She felt her face go cold. Her lips were dry and she had to swallow twice before the words would come. "Is it Loki? Is something wrong with him?" The possibility seemed too terrible for her weak little words. Time seemed to slow before she finally heard Thor's response.

"No," he said, gently. "No. Nothing has changed in my brother's condition."

"Or disposition," Heimdall added. Jane was so caught up in her relief that she almost missed the sour look Thor gave his subject, or the apologetic bow Heimdall gave in return. Jane turned away for a moment, knowing that her face must be flushing red in the aftermath of her fear. She knew Thor knew at least part of what she felt for his brother, but now was not the time for either of them to think of it. Especially if the troubles Thor hinted at were as grave as both he and Heimdall seemed to think.

Jane busied herself in picking up her bag. One of the seams had split—probably on contact with the broken Bifrost—and a few pens and pencils had leaked out. She took longer than necessary to find a safe pouch to stow them in…long enough to ensure the blush was gone from her face. When she stood up, Heimdall had returned to his post near the construction at the edge of the bridge, and Thor was looking down at her with a small, resigned smile.

She took his hand to get back to her feet, turning red again at the touch of his hand.

"You needn't hide from me, Jane," he said, taking her bag and slinging it over one shoulder. "You are not the only one to feel affection for Loki. And I am aware that it was not for love of me that he abandoned his schemes on Midgard."

Though it was a relief to hear Thor address it so openly, it was still a subject Jane could barely puzzle out in the privacy of her own mind. Did Thor really think Loki _loved _her? If so, that just made everything worse. "Can we…just not talk about that, right now? After all," she shrugged and tried to smile at him, "I get the feeling we'll have much bigger things to worry about."

He nodded. "True enough," he said, "and the sooner you know all, the sooner we may work to a solution. There will be time for you to see the city later. My mother waits for us. Should you like to fly once more, Jane?"

This time she didn't have to struggle to return his grin. She cuddled under his arm and said, like a child sharing a secret, "I have dreams about it all the time. Almost as often as I dream about you."

"Wicked woman," he growled, hugging her tighter and spinning Mjolnir. Jane's heartbeat quickened at the familiar rise of power in the air, the lightness she felt spreading from the soles of her feet through the tips of her fingers. "I believe," he threw his arm forward and the Bifrost became a true rainbow underneath them, all colors blurring together in brilliant bands of light, "if you could fly," he turned them upside down, and Jane screamed, "you would give not another thought to me."

She was laughing too hard to reply. The very air in Asgard seemed designed to intoxicate, expanding in her lungs like helium and making her lightheaded. Upside-down or right-side up, she would never close her eyes. The stars above them blended with rising sunlight; the city below shimmered gold, red, and blue between night and day.

Asgard was beautiful; breathtakingly, staggeringly beautiful. She had never seen anything like it, nothing that even came close. The streets below seemed paved with silver. In the starlight, the cobblestones sparkled with flashes and rivulets of brilliant light. The buildings were pearlescent marble, gleaming gold, or gray granite pure as a cloud. Each one reached for the heavens, so high and close their spires seemed to touch the stars. Between them, patches of garden with tall dark trees or fragrant, flower-dotted bushes gave children and their parents places to play or rest.

Thor skillfully wound between the buildings, and Jane gaped as they passed. Wide windows gave her flashes of Aesir life; families sitting to dine together, a pair of children sparring with wooden swords, a lone woman in a dress the color of old blood reclining on a sofa looking out over the city.

Jane would never have eyes wide enough to take it all in. She didn't ever want to. The moment she saw everything, the moment she understood the curiosities of life in this vast, mysterious, beautiful city, would be the moment the universe had nothing more to offer her.

Thor was looking down at her, his smile only slightly smaller than hers. "How does the city please you, Jane?" he asked, deep voice cutting through the rushing wind effortlessly.

In comparison, Jane had to shout to be heard. "It's amazing!" she cried, almost resenting Thor from taking her attention away from two kids playing with a fascinating levitating ball. "Now I get why New Mexico was such a disappointment for you!"

"No place you called home could ever be disappointing," he replied. She had a moment to be thankful that her cheeks were already red from the wind. He was such a sweet-talker, that one. "We will be at the palace in another moment."

And indeed, before them rose Thor's home. Its fluted turrets were three times as high as any others in the city. If the others looked like they touched the sky, these looked as though they rested betwixt and between the stars themselves. The night sky was deeper here than at the Bifrost, and the golden towers backed by inky darkness and crystalline twinkling stars looked almost too perfect to be real. Jane thought that if she put her hand out the entire vision would disappear like a mirage.

The palace was fringed by a variety of gardens; some almost like miniature wildernesses, full of tangled bushes and brambles, while others had geometric flowerbeds that bloomed with every color in the rainbow, and some that were outside its bounds. Each garden connected in some way with the others through a labyrinthine network of paths and walkways. She also saw broad training grounds, dotted with racks of wooden and real spears, swords, shields, and other equipment.

They flew behind the palace. The city was thinner there, the buildings dwindling in size and density in the face of a vast grassy plain beyond. Fringing the plain were steep, jagged mountains, nothing more than flat silhouettes in the shadow of oncoming night. The constellations above shimmered; the starlight was far more intense than on earth. Though it was nearly night here, the plain was illuminated as though by a drizzle of liquid silver. There was no moon.

The starlit plain was hidden from sight behind the shorter buildings at the edge of the great city as they dropped lower. Jane had only a moment to see the tall, blonde figure draped in elegant blue and silver—and feel a sick sensation of terror in her heart over the introduction to come—before her feet softly touched the springy grass in the garden. It took a moment to get used to the pull of gravity again, and by then, Frigga, Queen of Asgard and Mother of Thor, was in front of her.

"Jane Foster, may I present Frigga, Queen of Asgard and Mother of the Aesir."

Jane felt too shaky to attempt a curtsey, so she dipped her head respectfully and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Frigga returned the nod, amused good grace lurking around her eyes and mouth as she saw Jane's awkwardness. "Likewise, Jane Foster. I have long been curious about the woman whom both my sons owe such a debt. I hope our hospitality here may be the first of many payments on the obligation we owe." She moved forward gracefully and extended her hand. "I believe on Midgard it is customary to shake hands when meeting. Welcome to Asgard."

They shook, and Jane felt a little of her shyness evaporate at this kind attempt to make her feel at home. "Thank you. But please," she laughed a bit breathlessly, "there's no obligation. If I did anything to help Thor, he repaid that by saving the world."

"I do have two sons," Frigga's smile dimmed, "though one no longer admits having a mother in me. Still, I heard enough from my son and my Gatekeeper that you did much in securing his safe return. A mother's gratitude in such a matter is endless. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable."

"Thank you…um," she darted a glance at Thor, "is "your Majesty" the right term?"

"My husband would insist on such formalities," Frigga answered for him, mouth settling in a thin line, "but if you will allow me the liberty, I will call you Jane and you may call me Lady Frigga."

There was no way she could comfortably jump to a first name basis with Thor's mother and a practical goddess, but Jane just nodded and said, "I prefer being called Jane anyway. But…do you think I could get some details about my stay? Thor told me…" she looked between the pair of them, trying to understand the grim looks that passed between mother and son, "well, he didn't tell me much of anything."

"Of course," Frigga said, motioning the two of them to join her along the path. "You must naturally be very curious in the face of all this mystery. While it would likely be more prudent to wait until our scientists and sorcerers could give you a more complete picture of our troubles, I will not keep you in suspense. Let me take you to our library, however. There are texts that can help me explain."

"A library?" Jane had to stop herself rushing ahead. Of course in a palace this grand there must be one, but her heart beat faster at the bare thought of what wonders such a room might hold. _Although_, she reminded herself, _probably nothing's in English. Or German…if I remember enough scientific German from school to do me any good._

"I have already told the guards that you are to have unimpeded access to that room at any time," Thor said, long strides curtailed to his mother's slow pace. He smiled down on her. "Though I should warn you that I will come fetch you if you go missing for more than a day."

"It's a safe bet that you'd find me there," she replied, "What kind of astronomical section do you have?"

He looked a bit chagrined. "I am afraid that my knowledge of the collection is…cursory at best. Though those who understand these matters say that my father's library cover every subject in unparalleled depth."

"As well they should," Frigga nodded at two armored guards who quickly opened the doors for them, "Generations of Aesir kings have contributed to it."

Passing into the palace was such an everyday affair to Thor and Frigga that Jane had to stifle her excitement and awe at the beauties that emerged from every corner. The elegantly carved silver and gold knotwork on the pillars, the inlaid stonework of the floor, and the wide open corridors that brought in the smells of the garden and the ocean that fell off the edge of the world all encouraged Jane to linger in stunned astonishment. Despite her best intentions to look as though all of this were matter-of-fact to her, her feet still faltered and her eyes opened so wide she thought they would pop out of her head.

Frigga noticed. Jane thought there was very little that woman would fail to see. There was something in her narrow smile and sidewise gaze that seemed familiar—it gave Jane an uncomfortable feeling—but her voice was perfectly cordial when she said, "Would you care to see the view?"

Jane bit her lip and shook her head. "I think if I stopped to look now we'd never get to the library. Besides, business before pleasure."

"Very well," she said, leading the way again, "Thor, you will be sure to show Jane anything in the palace she cares to see."

"I had planned the tour for right after breakfast tomorrow, Mother," Thor assured her, trading an amused glance with Jane over this reminder of his duty. "If you are not too tired for it, of course?"

It was going to be very odd dealing with Thor in the context of his family. Frigga seemed so welcoming, but there was an edge to her looks at the two of them that didn't seem entirely friendly. It wasn't hostile, not by any means, just…wary. Jane realized with a start that she was being judged. If Thor had spoken of her to his family in the same warm way he'd spoken to her—well, she couldn't blame Frigga for being concerned that his son had given his affection to someone unworthy.

In the same moment, Jane also realized why Frigga's expressions—far more sly and concealed that Thor's wide smiles—were so familiar. Despite her golden hair and blue eyes, her finer, sharper features resembled the adopted rather than natural son's. Her expressions were Loki's, too.

It was hard, after having that revelation, to treat Frigga's kind gestures as wholly honest. Something of Loki's mischievous spirit danced around her eyes and mouth, and Jane could not bring herself to trust her. It was too difficult, overwhelmed with everything else as she was, to separate her feelings for the son from her feelings about the mother. Jane decided not to try until she'd had a decent night's sleep.

After about a fifteen minute walk—during which they crossed more ballrooms, drawing rooms, music rooms, indoor courtyards and other little spots of beauty than Jane could remember—they reached a tall pair of wooden doors, bound in silver filigree. Two guards stood here as well, but when they saw Frigga they merely stood straight and made no move to open the door. She nodded to them and gestured sharply with an outstretched left hand. Slowly, the great doors unlatched, creaked, and opened wide.

Jane's stomach flip-flopped. Frigga resembled Loki in more ways than one, then. Rather, Loki resembled her. A tension headache—familiar to her after many long, frustrating days analyzing storm data—started to pound behind her eyes. This was _definitely _something to think about later.

Her unease melted away the moment she stepped through the door.

"Oh, my…" she gasped, "this is—this is _incredible_."

She knew now why the doors were so high. The library stretched three stories up, marble spiral staircases running like spiderwebs between each level, and stepstools and ladders available every few paces. Wide tables were spaced over the floor, positioned in front of two huge windows that looked out over the darkening city on the right. Several people looked up as they entered, even stared at her odd clothes and obvious excitement, but a look from Thor sent them all back to their books.

Jane didn't notice. The smell of books—leather, wood, vellum, glue, and paper old and new—was intoxicating. Jane had never considered herself a bibliophile (except for her scientific textbooks, she actually preferred eBooks for recreational reading) but the smell alone was enough to make her believe she could live quite happily in this room the rest of her life.

She trailed her fingers over the closest bookcase; actually, it was a scroll rack, with tiny pigeonholes each a home for a carefully rolled ream of vellum, papyrus, or paper. Tiny runes were cut in the wood below and above each niche. They each made a unique pattern under her wandering fingertips. Somehow this little detail became more significant to Jane than all the wonders she'd seen that day; she had no idea why that should be so.

"Jane?" Frigga drew her attention to where she and Thor stood by an open book. The illuminated volume's illustrations actually moved—Jane frowned in confusion at scenes of masked men worshipping a floating, amorphous cloud—before Frigga turned to the important page.

"This is one of the first texts we have that identifies the Convergence by its essential nature," Frigga said, pointing to an astronomical type map that seemed to show the nine Realms in alignment. "It is an occurrence of every five thousand years, when the planets of each realm align in their orbit around Midgard."

"Midgard is the center of Yggdrasil?" Jane almost smiled. Who knew that the oldest views of the universe would turn out to be correct? The Earth really was the center of the universe.

"It is," Thor said, "and each of the other Realms orbit it much in the same way the planets in your solar system orbit your sun. Every five thousand years, the planets align, and the Convergence occurs."

"So what is it, besides an alignment? Does it have anything to do with the strange things happening on Earth? We've had things and people disappear and reappear. Stars that aren't in the sky one moment are there the next. And some people who have managed to find their way home tell some pretty crazy stories. Others haven't shown up at all."

Frigga nodded. "These are all symptoms of the Convergence. The alignment of the Realms weakens the barriers of space and time between the worlds, creating stable—if unpredictable—tunnels between the planets. Through our entire history, we have never been able to successfully predict or locate these wormholes where they manifest. This makes our problem a difficult one to solve."

"And…" Jane looked from one to the other, wondering why they were being so very cagey with her. Surely if they were willing to break Odin's rules in bringing her there—and waste the Tesseract's energy to do it—she deserved the whole truth from them. "What is that problem, exactly?"

"Asgard is not immune to the problems brought by the Convergence. Our own citizens have been disappearing as well, and as the event draws closer the effects will only grow more severe."

"So you brought me here to figure out how to fix it?" Jane was flattered, but immediately daunted by the enormity of the task. "I…you guys have a lot more faith in me than I have in myself, I'll tell you." Frigga's brow puckered—probably in confusion over her being called a "guy"—and Jane bit her tongue before turning to her son. "Thor, this is…this is _way_ too big for me to figure out on my own. Besides which, there are teams of SHIELD scientists working on this very problem. You'd be better off bringing Nick Fury here."

"That is not it," Frigga cut her off before Thor could contradict her. "There is a person in Asgard who understands better than anyone the balance between Realms and the wormholes that form between them."

"So why not ask him? Or her?"

"We have. He is…uncooperative."

Suddenly everything made sense, and Jane felt even more overwhelmed than before. "You didn't bring me here to manage _Loki_, did you? What," she couldn't get a deep breath, "what on earth makes you think he'd tell me anything? I've asked him questions through you a bunch of times. Nothing."

They merely looked at her. She shook her head and shrugged.

"Well, I'll try, but I really hope you have a backup plan. Because I don't think this is going to work."

"You must try to make him speak to us, Jane. There is too much at stake to fail."

_Great. Because a little more pressure was exactly what I needed._

"But you're not telling me," she felt desperate now, "what exactly is at stake?"

"My husband," Frigga's face lost its gentle humor and settled into lines as grave as carven stone. "Odin has disappeared. If we do not wish the nine Realms to fall into chaos during an already chaotic time, you must help us find him. You must make Loki help us find him."

()()()

Hello everyone, and welcome to the beginning of our adventure! Some of you have asked whether this story will be a rewrite of _The Dark World_. The answer to that is…it's complicated! Since _Iron Man 3 _and _The Winter Soldier_ have come out as well since beginning _World Under Siege_, this story will incorporate information from all those movies. Quite frankly, I was disappointed by _The Dark World_, and want to write the story I wanted to see. So it'll be similar to WUS…a little bit of everything!

Some logistics: I'll still be saying Skrull instead of Chitauri, as I don't feel like retrofitting WUS to conform. I think this story will be around 20 chapters long and I want to finish it before Avengers 2 comes out. So we'll be together for about a year!

I hope to be on a bimonthly updating schedule with this and I do have a few reserve chapters written already. At least through May there shouldn't be any delays. As usual, a reviewed story means a happy writer, and I appreciate any encouragement you throw my way.

Always know you have a grateful author who is dying to hear from you!

Christine


	2. Chapter Two

Jane didn't sleep that night. By the time dawn—true dawn—rose bright and clear in the sky over the palace, her eyes itched with weariness and her muscles burned from the endless pacing her restless mind forced on her. Half her mind was devoted to anxiety about the task Thor and his mother had placed before her earlier that day. The other half was still screaming in uncontrolled excitement.

Asgard was not what she had thought it would be. She had been reading up on Viking lore—what little of it was available in the Hilo library, that is—and had been imagining halls staffed by hundreds of servants, primitive (if glamorous) chambers, and a roof thatched with golden shields and lined with the spears of the victorious. It seemed foolish now, but she had not thought of alien technology as part of the Aesir's daily life.

Boy, was she ever wrong.

There _were _servants, of course. There were servants, underservants, and probably servants to serve the servant's servants. They waited at tables, guarded the doors, handed her things when she dropped them, and stood ready to give directions at a moment's notice. However, the sensation of being observed by at least ten pairs of eyes at any time was new and really, _really_ disorienting.

However, her being wrong about the last point made the servants' jobs different than her expectations. She had—in some romantic corner of her mind responsible for conjuring visions of Asgard—imagined them hauling pails of water for baths, lighting candle chandeliers, and endlessly polishing gold and silver flatware. Even after a single afternoon and evening in Asgard, she wanted to blush over the stupidity of those ideas.

Why had it never occurred to her that a society capable of building and maintaining a stable wormhole generator would ever need to bother with such menial chores?

The palace was subtly pervaded with technology that made daily life as effortless as a dream. Platforms in the floor rose smoothly and silently to bring one from the ground floor to the observation deck in the highest tower. Decorative panels in the wall flipped to reveal smooth-screened interfaces that could pull information from the deepest reaches of the libraries of all nine Realms. The bathrooms—large enough in Jane's room to encompass her entire bungalow in Hilo—housed bathtubs the size of swimming pools, which filled with water pre-heated to any desired temperature, and scented with one's choice of dozens of essential oils.

Jane hadn't even seen the laboratories yet, but it didn't matter. She could happily spend many weeks dissecting the laser-edged swords and spears in the training yard, the hovering watering machines in the gardens, or the trackers imbedded into the spine of each book that automatically replaced the volumes on the shelves when the reader desired.

All of it was staggering. The struggle not to show how amazed she was by what everyone around her considered matter of course was exhausting, and after an hour, Jane gave it up. Thor wasn't embarrassed by it—indeed, he was only too happy to describe whatever she didn't understand—and if other people stifled smiles or even rolled their eyes at her questions, well…she'd been laughed at plenty of times in the past. Being afraid of ignorance was only self-destructive, and Jane had no intention of wasting a single second of her time here to learn, and learn, and learn some more.

The afternoon and evening had been spent getting her bearings and then meeting—or reacquainting herself with—Thor's friends. The feast that night was smaller than what Jane gathered was normal, and she silently thanked Thor for understanding her awkwardness and anxiety over meeting so many new people at once. The banquet hall and table had still been enough to blow her away, however tiny others might consider it, but the conversation had been fun and accessible. Jane struck her friendship with Volstagg back up—he greeted her with a hug strong enough to lift her off her feet—and even Sif and Fandral had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome. She missed Hogun, but understood that after a skirmish on Vanaheim he had remained with his own people to serve as a liaison with Asgard.

They reminisced about the battle of Puente Antiguo, questioned Jane about her research and Midgard in general, and remarked with admiration on how much Midgard had changed since their being there last. When the conversation shifted back to Asgard, Jane sat back and listened with wide-open ears to all they said about their past exploits, adventures, and many misadventures.

After quite a bit of strong mead and a stomach stretched to bursting by delicious, unknown dishes—Thor had seen to it that there were plenty of vegetarian options for her—Jane had thought she'd conk out as soon as her head touched the pillow. And yet, as the sky out her window darkened and lightened, as stars crossed the sky in their smooth, slow dances, and as a quick rainstorm had dripped each flower in the gardens with fragrant dew…Jane had seen it all.

As usual, it was her brain that kept her from rest. She could not forget the fact that she would see Loki that day. She and Thor would tour the palace, and then he would bring her down to the dungeons to see Loki.

Every time that thought crossed her mind, her eyes opened wide again and sleepiness vanished. Her stomach churned and she could only find relief for her stress in endless pacing. So she wore a path in the smooth inlaid floor of her beautiful room over the long hours of night, and thought of Loki while desperately trying _not _to think of Loki.

The face of the astronomical clock in the corner across from her bed was slowly lightening and the stars vanished. Though she didn't understand the symbols that covered it, the sun outside told her that day was approaching, and if she wanted to look presentable, she'd better get a move on.

Pushing her limp hair from her eyes, Jane crossed the bedroom (again) to the gargantuan bathroom. She started the tub filling with steaming water—the tub filled silently, from jets in the bottom rather than from a spout—flavored with an oil picked at random (it smelled like fresh grass and mint), and stared out over the city. There was something about Asgard…in any mood, at any time, it just seemed so full of exuberant life. In the gardens below, Jane could see men about their work, trimming the hedges and pruning the flowers. On the streets beyond the palace's walls, faint cries and laughter echoed up into the wide sky.

She stepped into the tub, sighing luxuriously as the hot water soothed her tired muscles and the smell gave some peace to her restless mind.

"Oh my God," she sighed, giggling at the irony at invoking God in this city, "this is the only way to start the day."

The tub was large enough to swim in, she found, and did several laps to stretch her legs and arms. The water slapped merrily against the stone ledge and some water slopped to the floor, quickly drained away by gutters that soundlessly opened at the tub's edge. Jane shook her head at such efficiency, then—unable to indulge herself as she wanted with such a task lying before her—quickly washed her hair and brushed it, then scrubbed herself down and rinsed off.

It seemed like sacrilege to leave such a bathroom without an hour of pampering, but she forced herself to. If the job she was here to do was as challenging as it seemed to be at the moment, she would have plenty of late nights or early mornings to enjoy the small comfort of a hot bath.

A button near the mirror started gentle fans of hot air that dried her and her hair after a few minutes of standing in the stream. She laughed at the feeling, at the fact that she was really there, in Asgard, after so long dreaming fruitlessly about it, and soon she was just standing naked in the bathroom, giggling like a child.

She picked a robe from the array on hooks in the bathroom, and strolled back into the bedroom, wondering where her bag had got to. She had spied some of her books and her tablet on a desk in the study (her room was actually a four-room suite) but had seen neither hide nor hair of her jeans and tee shirts. The dress she'd worn to dinner last night was still where she'd left it, artfully draped over the chaise at the foot of the bed, but she had no idea where it had come from.

Well…it wouldn't hurt to ask. She pressed a button on her end table—the one Thor had showed her for summoning the nearest servant—and had only approximately thirty seconds to get nervous before a knock sounded on the door.

She opened it herself, momentarily wincing when the woman's look of surprise told her she just should have called for her to come in. The woman was well-trained however, and dipped a low curtsey before saying, "What may I help you with, Lady Foster?"

Jane's inner Disney princess and proud American argued with each other about whether or not to contradict such an elaborate title. The princess won out, and preened just a little at the fancy-schmancy title.

She stepped back and let the woman enter. "I was just wondering where my clothes were. I guess someone unpacked my bag, but I couldn't find them."

"Of course, my Lady," she replied, and gestured back towards the bedroom. "Please."

After shutting the door, she led the way into the bedroom and pushed a panel on the wall next to Jane's bed. A quiet whir later, and the entire wall slid away to reveal a dressing room. Jane bit down on her lip to keep herself from bursting out laughing when she saw her three pairs of pants, seven shirts, two skirts and one dress hanging in shabby glory…surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of fine Aesir outfits. The myriad shades of fabrics hurt the eyes—pinks and reds, silvers and golds, blues and purples—and the number of styles was bewildering.

The attendant smothered a smile as she looked back at Jane's amazement. "May I help you dress, my Lady?"

"Uh, no thank you," Jane replied, certain she wouldn't stand the embarrassment of having someone help her put her clothes on, "but you could tell me…" she gestured vaguely and then laughed, "which of these I should wear."

"The breakfast gowns are here," the woman said, gesturing towards the wall nearest the door on their left. For a summer morning such as this, I might recommend…" she trailed off, moving down the row of gowns and finally selecting one the shade of a robin's egg and lightly ornamented with gold embroidery, "this one. Queen Frigga's favorite color is blue."

_And it might not hurt to be on Queen Frigga's good side,_ Jane thought, filling in the blanks. "Thank you," she said, taking the dress and clutching its soft billowing folds against her chest. It felt like holding a cloud.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, stepping aside to let the maid pass. Just as the hem of her cream-colored gown was about to vanish, she called, "Actually, what's your name?"

"You may call me Gyda," she turned and smiled, dipping a curtsey, "and I was selected by the Prince to be available to you at any hour of the day or night. All you need do is send for me. It is a pleasure to meet you, Jane Foster."

"Thor picked you for me?" Jane didn't miss the nervous flutter Gyda gave at her casual use of Thor's name, but she wasn't about to start calling him "the Prince". "Why?"

"He thought I would be best suited to make you comfortable," she replied, "I have often served on the wives of foreign dignitaries when they wait upon the All-Father."

"So if I do something weird or wrong, you'll let me know?"

"My Lady?"

Jane shook her head and clarified. "I don't want to embarrass Thor or his mother. You'll let me know if I'm about to do something stupid according to Aesir mores, right?"

Gyda smiled broadly, her motherly face crinkling at the corners of her eyes and mouth. There was something about that smile that made Jane feel instantly comfortable. "Of course, my Lady. Might I suggest, then," she cleared her throat, "that I help you dress and tend your hair? There still remains an hour before breakfast."

"Just enough time to get presentable," Jane said wryly. "Well, I'll get dressed, but you can stay and let me know if anything's in the wrong place."

"Very good, my Lady," Gyda curtsied again and withdrew. Jane unfolded the dress and tried to figure out where exactly she should attempt entry. The bodice was stiff and didn't seem to have an opening anywhere, and the diaphanous layers of the skirt baffled her.

"Underwear first," she sighed, and fetched her own laundry from the closet for that. Then she laid the dress flat on the bed and started studying it like an engineering diagram. After a moment, she found her way in through the six layers of skirt, and slid the gown over her head, wriggling like a fish to get her shoulders through the narrow waist.

Once it was on, though, it felt comfortable as her own skin. The silky skirt whispered against her legs and was delicate enough to waver in the faint breeze from the open window. The blues ranged from robin's egg to the pale blue of a midwinter sky, and the gold embroidery not only covered the bodice, it also ranged down the top skirt to mingle in the folds. Jane stared at herself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the slight elf-like creature who stared back.

Then she stuck her tongue out, and felt like herself again. "A jay in borrowed plumes," she murmured. It would take more than a nice dress for her to feel at home in Asgard. Still, she enjoyed a few giddy twirls before going out to meet Gyda for hair and makeup. She could get used to being treated like a princess.

If just putting the dress on made Jane feel royal, it was nothing compared to when Gyda declared her finished and turned her so she could see the final product in the floor length mirror next to the vanity. The exact right amount of makeup brought out her cheekbones, made her lips smiling and plump, and accentuated her eyes, which now seemed to shine like amber. To mirror that, she wore a heavy torc of what felt like solid gold and a bangle of the same material, hammered thin as a sheet of glass. The silk slippers on her feet were beautiful, flimsy things; in them she walked absolutely silently.

She looked great. She looked beautiful. And she felt so awkward it was painful. This was not the first time an Aesir had dressed her up and made her feel unlike herself. Memories crowded in on her, thick as a bramble bush, and she longed for a sword to slice cleanly through them.

"Gyda, this is…amazing," she said, trying to feel the happy joy in being well dressed. "You work magic, you really do."

The woman smiled, still looking her over with a critical eye. "The first impressions are always the most important. Today is your first day in Asgard, and I don't mind telling you that many people are curious about whether or not our first mortal guest can manage herself properly."

Jane swallowed. Of all the things she had _not _wanted to hear…she tried to smile and said, "Do you think I'll disappoint anyone?"

"Those who were ill-bred enough to look forward to your failure will be very disappointed. You are lovely, my Lady. And I know another who will think so too."

After a whole day in Asgard, Jane had hoped she'd be beyond blushing, but no such luck. Her cheeks went fiery as she murmured, "Does everyone know about…about Thor and me?" _And just what can they know_, Jane thought, _when I hardly know what it is myself?_

"It was the talk of the city when our young prince returned from Midgard such a changed man, and it did not take long before the party responsible was discovered. Prince Thor has always been very free with the affections of young ladies of the court, but of late he has been quite restrained," a smile played around Gyda's mouth that suggested she didn't think restraint to be such a bad thing. "Unfortunately, you must prepare yourself for a deal of scrutiny from those women who feel themselves scorned on your behalf." She smiled at Jane and started clearing up the vanity table with quick, efficient movements.

Jane stood back and breathed a deep sigh. "Oh well," she said, lightly as possible. "Can't do anything about it anyway, right?" not waiting for a reply, she went on, "I guess I'll just head down. Thank you Gyda."

"You're very welcome, my Lady. Enjoy your breakfast. It is tradition," she said to Jane's quickly retreating back, "to change for each meal, as well as using an afternoon dress for the time between luncheon and supper. When you return, I will be here to assist you."

"Great," Jane wanted to laugh, but swallowed it in the face of her maid's earnestness, "I'll be sure to do that."

Gyda returned to her chores, and Jane hurried out of the room. But she found no privacy there either. The two guards outside her door bowed respectfully, as well as those stationed outside each and every guest bedroom up and down the corridor. Jane felt like she was walking in a hall peopled with moving statues, like something out of _Beauty and the Beast_. She still wanted to laugh—wearing four dresses in one day was a bit silly—but didn't want to offend anyone doing it. So she settled for shaking her head in the relative privacy of the glass-walled elevator and stifling a chuckle in her hand.

She really wasn't in Kansas anymore!

A servant, liveried in the blue and gold robes of a butler (so she gathered) met her as she stepped off on the seventh floor, where their dining hall had been the previous night.

"Lady Jane," he bowed, "the Prince asked me to escort you to the breakfast parlor."

"The breakfast parlor?" she repeated, fighting the irrational urge to laugh once more. What had she fallen into, a period drama? "Okay then," the man's lips puckered at her slang, and she tried again, calling on all her memory of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters. "Very well. Please show me there."

He bowed again and gestured her back into the elevator. "The sun rises over the mountains behind the palace," his voice settled into a well-worn, pedantic tone that Jane surmised was used to educate tourists like herself, "and the Queen enjoys the light on the facing terrace. Her morning room faces the same way as well."

"It is a beautiful view," Jane replied politely, having already seen the same thing from her room twenty-three stories up.

"Indeed," he said, "favored guests such as yourself are given the east-facing suites. Your room in particular is highly prized, as the balcony faces south and is comfortable even on the coldest days in Asgard. Many a dignitary and royal guest has remarked on its favorable orientation."

Jane knew she was exhausted, but the man's voice was soporific. She couldn't pass out in the elevator! She had to do something to keep herself awake. "I was looking at the stars last night," she said, forcing some brightness into her voice, "and I was wondering…" she trailed off as they stepped from the lift onto a glass-walled skywalk between four towers. They were higher by far than her bedroom, higher than she had yet been. All of Asgard was spread beneath them, flowing out like a shimmering pond from the roots of the palace, and Jane lost her breath.

She pressed her hands against the glass, staring at the glistening buildings in their haphazard patchwork pattern beneath them, a sensation of disbelief threatening to swamp her as she looked. Jane could have lingered on the bridge for hours soaking in the view, but the butler was already several steps ahead of her, chattering about the view in a way that told Jane it had been years since he'd actually _looked _at it. She swallowed her question and her irritation—like everything else that morning—and hurried after him.

The man had just enough time to finish describing some public building or other by the time they crossed the walk and entered the tower on the northeast corner. A pair of double doors—gold straight-edged patterns etched into gold studded with lapis—opened to reveal the breakfast parlor, completely walled by glass, just like the skywalk. The sunlight stretched brilliant and liquid over the smooth marble floors and turned the blue velvet on the chairs and sofas black as midnight. Jane winced in the light and wished she'd brought her sunglasses up, regardless of how they would clash with the dress.

Thor turned at her arrival and crossed the room to take her hand and press a warm kiss to it. "Good morning Jane," his smile made everything better, "all of Asgard pales before your radiance." She might have scoffed at those words from anyone else, but Thor's eyes gave the truth to his compliment. Her heart gave a blissful flutter as he tucked her arm under his and escorted her across the room. "How did you pass your night?"

She swallowed the truth. "I slept like a rock," she said, hoping his exposure to the Avengers had given him enough understanding of Earth idioms to cover that one, "although how I managed that in such a beautiful room is a mystery."

"I'm glad it pleased you," he said, "for likely we will both need our strength for the challenges of the day."

Jane managed a laugh. "What? You mean taking a tour around this incredibly huge and beautiful palace straight out of a fairy tale? Yeah, that's pretty exhausting. In comparison," she forced herself to go on without a hitch, "talking your brother into helping us is gonna be a piece of cake. After which," she finished, "we should probably _have_ cake. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm going to _need_ cake. I'm babbling," she shook her head and sighed, "if you can't tell, I'm a bit nervous."

"By my husband's beard, Thor," Frigga's voice came from nowhere and made Jane jump, "at least let the poor girl have her breakfast. There will be enough time for us all to get nervous later."

"Good morning, my Lady," Jane said, turning to offer a half-bow half-curtsey in Frigga's direction. The woman sat on a long bench facing the sunlight, her hair and skin almost uniform white in the pure glow. She nodded graciously back.

"Good morning Jane," she said, "You must excuse that I have already eaten. The older I become, I find, the less sleep I require, even after a feast. My son, however, would still sleep till the sun is high had he nothing to rouse for," she smiled wickedly, "If I had not been convinced of his affection for you before, I should certainly be so now."

"Mother," Thor gave an embarrassed chuckle that made Jane want to burst out laughing, "surely you might wait until later in your acquaintance before you begin to malign me so. Many are the mornings when I rise before you to attend the garrison in the training fields."

Frigga exchanged a mischievous look with Jane that might have seemed mere friendly conspiracy had she not seen it on Loki's face before. Her own smile froze solid as she once again ran against their similarities and her confusion. Thankfully the glance lasted only a few moments, and she was saying, "I did say, my son, when you had nothing to rouse for. It is true that you have never been derelict in your training duties. I remember many mornings, however, when you used your royal title to reschedule those morning appointments to a time more suited to your aching head."

Loyalty to Thor kept Jane from cracking up, but she had to bite her lip and turn away to hide her smile. The idea of Thor, grumbling and cross in the grips of a hangover, snarling that he'd be at the field in the afternoon was hilarious. And yet, it was strangely at odds with all she knew of him…the Thor she knew didn't pull rank and never seemed lazy. Well…save for the first day and a half after he'd landed on Earth.

Clearly, there was a Thor both Frigga and Loki knew that Jane had only a passing acquaintance with. No wonder Thor was embarrassed.

She turned to him, smiling and pretending not to have heard a word of what Frigga had said. "I'm gonna need your help today to navigate around the breakfast table," his annotations on each dish had been invaluable last night, "You know my feelings about bacon, after all. Just point me in the direction of fruit, some coffee, and maybe some bread and butter."

Frigga laughed, "Yes Jane, save him from his terrifying mother!" but Thor smiled back at her, clearly grateful for the distraction from her teasing. But he had no time to reply. The door to the parlor flew open and _cracked_ against the wall behind. Jane started, turning to see the same butler who had escorted her up. The man was panting under his heavy silk robes and his eyes were wide, wild.

"I beg your pardon—my Queen—" he dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor, "You know I would not dare intrude were it not for the most dire, the most severe—" he pressed a sweaty hand to his chest and stopped, panting.

"Do collect yourself," Frigga said, not unkindly, but there was an edge of steel in her voice that made Jane tense on the man's behalf. "The intrusion is forgiven. Tell us what is the matter."

"Yes, your Majesty," he said, dabbing his forehead with a silk handkerchief, leaving greasy streaks on the cloth. "It is a matter of your son, your Majesty."

"If there is anything the matter with Thor I am sure I would have noticed it by now."

"No, it is your _other _son of whom I speak."

"I know," she said, sighing, "Well, what is it?"

"He…" he paused, swallowed, and tried again, "he has…spelled one of the guards, your Majesty. The man is being held against the prison cell—in considerable distress—and the prisoner says he will not release him until his demands are met."

"That is impossible," Thor said, shaking his head. "Loki has never been able to perform magic in the cell. No one can. It is a trick."

"If it is, my Prince," he replied, "it is one without equal. You know what prolonged exposure to the cell's barrier can do to a man. I do not believe anyone would voluntarily undergo that agony."

"However he's doing it, isn't it more important to stop it?" Jane interrupted. "What are his demands?"

"I…hesitate to mention them, your Majesty," the butler ignored Jane and spoke directly to the Queen, "as they involve your honored guest. Perhaps I might speak in your Majesty's private ear?"

Jane huffed, and the tone of Frigga's voice sounded similarly exasperated. "For goodness' sake man," she sighed, "just tell us."

After another moment of panting hesitation, he finally said, "He wishes a private audience with Jane Foster."

()()()

Jane's footsteps were measured and even, but inside she was screaming.

One part of her wanted to run; run out of this dungeon, back up the six staircases Thor had taken her down, through the palace, out between the lovely gardens, and all the way down the Bifrost to the gate where Heimdall could shoot her back to Earth as neatly as she'd come.

The other—more logical—part of her mind tamped firmly down on this panic. She was here; she couldn't leave Thor without even trying to help him. If Loki could help, she had to try to make him willing to do it.

It still confused her why _everyone _seemed to think she could. Had she somehow gained a weird reputation as the Loki-whisperer? He'd kidnapped her and been thoroughly unpleasant to her for weeks! If she'd gotten him to do anything, it was probably only through guilt…at first. Jane tried not to think about it, but by the end…even she'd guessed that he'd been feeling more for her than that.

Despite all the time between then and now, however, Jane had never been able to figure out how she felt about that.

Before her, she saw a struggling figure dimly illuminated by orangey-yellow sparks flaring off an energy barrier. Loki's arm—she knew it was his because who else wore a combination of green and leather?—stuck through the barrier, unharmed, holding the man firmly in place. The guard's attempts to free himself were gradually growing weaker. Despite the legendary power of the Aesir to withstand pain, he was clearly reaching the end of his rope.

The sight quickened her pace as nothing else could. Loki had been right about one thing: she would never be able to watch someone in pain while knowing she was able to stop it.

Loki's face was bent, drawn in intense lines of concentration as he fought the combined powers of his captive and the supposedly impenetrable shield. Jane flinched as one of the sparks touched her bare arm, and rubbed the rising blister with a soft hiss. If just one spark did that…lasting contact with that thing would likely fry her!

"You might want to stand back, Jane."

"Yeah," she agreed, stepping backwards and to the side of the sparking shield, "I worked that one out for myself."

A tight smile puckered the corner of his mouth. "It's good to see you again," he said, eyes breaking away from his hostage for a moment as they darted up to meet hers, "even under such circumstances." He looked down again. "You look well."

"I might be better," how was it possible that she could so easily fall back into the semi-sarcastic banter they'd established over a year ago, "if I'd had my breakfast."

He barked a laugh, but Jane shook her head and ignored it. "Listen," she said, wearily, "I'm here. Let him go."

"Do you swear you will stay and talk to me?"

"Do you need me to swear?"

"I have been betrayed by some of those I trusted most closely."

She thought of Odin, of his natural father…and even of Thanos. "Okay, fair enough." A particularly brilliant spray of electrical sparks showered to the dark flagstone corridor, and the man moaned. Jane felt nauseated. "I swear to you Loki, I'll stay and hear whatever you have to say."

"And do you swear Thor and," he hesitated on the words, "my mother will let you stay?"

"They couldn't get me to move," she assured him, "but since I would have come to see you—with their permission—later on today anyway, I don't think they'll drag me off, if that's what you're worried about. Now," she repeated, overwhelmed by a powerful—and frightening—sense of deja-vu, "let him _go_."

He did. The poor man slumped to the ground, pale, shaking, and barely hanging on to consciousness. Jane knelt by his side, feeling his pulse flutter quick and faint against her fingers. But of course, she had no idea what that meant in an Aesir. Every time she'd felt Thor's heartbeat, it had always seemed fast to her.

"Can you stand?" she murmured to him. At his groan and shake of the head, Jane put her hands under his shoulders and tried to lift him up. Between his bulk and his armor, nothing doing. So she looked up again at Loki. The brilliant light of his cell, seeping through the walls and the ceiling, threw his face into deep shadow and she could not read his expression. "I need to call someone to come and get him. He needs help, and I can't carry him myself."

"Very well," he agreed.

He watched every detail of the guard's removal with a straight-lined mouth and unreadable eyes. Jane tried to avoid watching him, but it was impossible; she felt him watching her however she moved. How was it that _she _felt like the vulnerable one when _he _was (figuratively speaking, anyway) the one behind bars?

When they were left alone, and there were no distractions to keep her mind from the reality of seeing him again, of being dependent on his moods and whims again, Jane realized just how little her thirteen months away had done to shield her from the influence of his manipulative power.

She didn't wait for him to speak. "I wish I were back on Earth," she murmured, hands tugging nervously at her dress.

He cocked his head, and a faint gleam of teeth showed for the first time. "Why Jane, was Asgard not all you expected? Such a disappointment. Well, _I_ cannot regret your presence. Not that I suppose it helps, but I was not lying when I said it was good to see you again. Anyone is a welcome distraction in this exile."

"What a compliment," she said as dryly as she could manage. When he made no reply, she swallowed and went on, "So…what did you want to talk to me about? You almost killed someone for the privilege—I'm not flattered, by the way—so it must be something important. I hope," she continued under her breath, "it was something important."

"Maybe it was for no other reason than to assure myself that Thor would not keep you all to himself during your first visit to our fair Realm," he said, turning from her and seating himself comfortably in one of the upholstered chairs in his cell, long legs crossed and arm resting on a low circular table. As he sat, his face—paler than usual and with eyes so bright they seemed to burn like twin stars—came into sharp relief. Jane stifled a gasp at how much thinner it seemed, how much more…vengeful.

The harsh, thin lines of his lips reminded her of their first few encounters in Stark Tower, and Jane—in addition to being angry, uncertain, and tired—was now afraid.

He saw it; of course he did. His smile grew sharper.

"Poor Jane," he said, sneering, "You thought you would be able to ignore me, didn't you? You thought you could come to Asgard, consort with the Prince, Queen, and King, and never have to think about the demon in the dungeon, didn't you? You _thought_," he leaned forward and snarled the words, "that you could forget me, didn't you?"

Her throat was too dry to answer; her stomach roiled with panic. This ravenous monster, this vicious creature was a Loki she had almost managed to forget. How could she have been so _stupid_?

All at once, his rage disappeared. He leaned back and smiled softly at her. "Oh Jane," he said, "how is it that for such a smart woman, you can sometimes be so foolish?"

How it happened, she would never know. All she knew was that, in the next moment, she was staring blankly at an empty cage as Loki gripped her throat from behind. She screamed, struggled, but he had lost none of his strength in the past year and she had never been a match for him anyway.

"Thor!" he yelled, hand sliding upward to stifle Jane's cries, "if you value her life, you will do _precisely _as I say!"

()()()

Gasp! An on-time update? I can hardly believe it myself, but here it is!

So…Loki's got some frustrations to work out, clearly.

Quick life update: PhD program in Glasgow didn't work out. I only got into the Master's program, and it's over $28,000 for _one year_, gah! Not worth it, when I could find an American school that might give me a better deal. So I'm looking into ESL programs in China, Korea, and am even considering coming back to Georgia for a year, while I dig into other schools. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

As always, your reviews and encouragements are my life. Please…keep 'em comin'!


	3. Chapter Three

Jane wanted to scream, but Loki's hand was tight around her throat and his long fingers held her mouth closed as effectively as a gag. She flailed against his tight grip, but could barely get a few inches before he yanked her back against him again. Her nails scratched ineffectively against his hand, and at the touch, he bent down and murmured, "Come Jane, haven't we done this dance before?"

His cool, sneering voice doused her in ice water. She stood stock still in the circle of his arm and closed her eyes, using the darkness to give herself some space from what was happening. Her heartbeat was thundering in her ears and she felt the blood rushing chaotically all over her body. Her feet tingled, longing to run, but she forced them to stay still. Her hands still shook, wanting to try dragging his arm away from her mouth, but Jane clenched them into fists and didn't stop until the pain of her fingernails digging into the palms finally pierced the haze of panic that enveloped her brain.

_Stop, Jane_, she commanded herself, _stop, and think._

There was a flurry at the end of the corridor, and Loki straightened behind her, though his arm didn't relax one bit.

"If I see anyone but my _dear brother_," he called out, "I'll break her neck. Thor!" he shouted, "You know I will do it!"

Jane wanted to be sick all over his fingers at the realization that this was one time he just might be telling the truth. Her very logical, but entirely useless conscience laughed bitterly and berated her: _didn't we agree that you were done with this craziness?_ _And yet here you are, a chew toy being fought over by two mastiffs, either strong enough to tear you to pieces. Good job, idiot!_

And as she saw Thor slowly emerge from around the corner, she wholeheartedly agreed. She was an idiot, she was _such_ a goddamned idiot.

Thor advanced evenly down the corridor, hand hanging loose next to Mjolnir, but Jane could feel his fury in the electricity that built in the air, the sharp smell of a storm about to break. He had not yet called his armor though, and that was reassuring. Loki held out his other hand, and his brother stopped. There was no sound, for neither man moved a muscle from where each stood, tense and battle ready, but Jane's ears drummed to the beat of her frantic heart.

Twenty paces stood between them, no more. For Jane, it was such an insurmountable distance that she and Loki might have as well been standing on the top of Everest. Still, Thor's presence did help relax her. Short of being crushed in a contest between them, she would never believe he would allow her to be harmed.

"Well, son of Odin," Loki began, leaning forward until his chin brushed the top of Jane's head, "how familiar all this seems. Do you not regret not following my advice of these many months past, in not ridding yourself of love for this mortal? Look at her!" and he shook Jane until her teeth rattled, "Defenseless. Pathetic. I could crush her throat without a thought."

Thor flinched, and Jane held out an open palm to him, desperately trying to convey that she was all right. He stopped, and the gentleness around his eyes showed her that he understood. Thor took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

His voice was calm when he said, "You will not hurt her."

"I have been in this prison—banished by Odin's edict and without intercession from you or my mother—for years. Do not," he hissed the words like a venomous serpent, "tell me what I will and will not do."

Jane tried to repeat "years", but it turned into a muffled moan against his palm.

"I think your beloved has something to say," Loki lowered his head so his ear was next to Jane's mouth, "Would you care to hear her cries for help? I confess," he laughed bitterly, "after so long left to my own devices, it is a pleasure even to hear this insignificant speak. So Jane," his hand took a firmer grip around her throat but left her mouth free, "what have you to say?"

"Years?" she had time enough to get out the single word before Loki's fingers closed off her windpipe. Jane choked for a moment—Thor took a lunging step forward—and Loki gagged her again.

"Stay!" he commanded Thor, and at Jane's outstretched hand, he reigned himself in. Rivulets of lightning flashed between the metal casings of the prison cells.

"Do not push me, Loki," he growled, as the lightning started to spark, "I offer you a single warning: it has been many months since I stopped thinking of you as the brother I once knew. The love I felt for him no longer extends to you. Hurt her, and I will kill you."

"I have heard this song from you many times, brother," Loki replied, and Jane could feel him smiling when Thor grimaced and closed his fists tight, "so you will forgive me if I have the words memorized. But we are being very rude," he went on in a tone of forced unconcern, "to our dear girl. I think you have been keeping secrets from your darling love. Shall I enlighten her? Or would you care to indulge in an exercise of honesty?"

Anger drained from Thor's face as he looked at her. Though half her face was still covered by Loki's hand, she knew her eyes were begging him for the truth. He swallowed twice and looked down at his closed fists before finally saying, "Jane, you must realize that punishment for us must, by reason of our very nature, be different. I did not approve my father's judgment in this—"

"Don't lie!" Loki snapped. "You were at my sentencing, and you said _nothing_. It has been _six_ _years_, and you condemned me to endure every single one of them."

Jane put her hand on Loki's wrist, and it was only because of his distraction that she was able to move it far enough to say, "Thor, tell me. It's only been thirteen months for me…how is it so different for you?"

"It has been the same for me, but…" he sighed, "the All-Father can influence the environment of Asgard in fundamental ways. Even," he stopped again, then repeated, "even to the passage of time."

"Are you saying," she said slowly, "that your father—Loki's father—screwed up time's flow…" the idea was so incredible, so cruel that Jane almost wanted to stop, "just to make his punishment more severe?"

"Swift as ever, Jane," Loki answered for Thor, whose tight mouth and averted eyes told her how close to the truth she had been, "The All-Father—a misnomer, as he is not my father—decided that a mere life sentence would not be enough for me to ruminate on my crimes," he snorted the word, and Jane remembered the man who once declared humans as incapable of self-rule, "so he settled on a more…lingering torment. He decreed that I should not age in accordance to time's passage in my cell, but that for each day that passed for him, and Thor, and the blessed of Asgard," his bitterness made Jane cringe, "close to six should pass for me."

Thor tried to interrupt. "Loki—"

"Silence!" in his fury, Loki dragged Jane a few steps backwards. She choked behind his hand and clawed against it, but he remembered her in time and his grip loosened. "With every word you speak you bring her death closer."

Thor ran his hand over Mjolnir's handle, his grip settling just behind the hammer's head. Yet he believed Loki's threat, and was silent.

Jane felt Loki's breaths, harsh and ragged, pressing against her. He was trying, she knew, to control his anger. Even after so many months in solitude, and after so many years of suppressed hated and jealousy, Loki was nothing if not a strategist. It was impossible to scheme when motivated by the hot flood of wrath.

"What do you want?" there was enough space for her to say the words. Her voice was quiet—she didn't mean for Thor to hear—but Loki answered her loud enough for both of them.

"What do I want?" he seemed almost amused by the question, "There is not a day when I have not dreamed of exactly what I desire. What a strange coincidence, Jane, that you should be the one to make possible these dreams."

"Answer her, Loki," Thor said, "I have no desire for this to continue."

"And yet," he snarled, "you now await _my _pleasure, Odinson. Is it not a chafing irritation?"

"If you wish me to admit my faults against you, brother—"

"I thought we had abandoned the pretense of being brothers."

"Loki," Jane said, louder this time, trying to keep his focus on her, "please, tell me. What can I do to make this better?"

The choice of words was unconsidered. Yet somehow, Jane felt they were apropos. From Thor's letters, she'd been aware of Loki's trial, and had assumed his punishment would be proportionate to his crime. However, the idea of Loki—immortal by her standards—being forced to live six times his natural lifespan, all in this subterranean cell, was appalling. Somehow, a life sentence for an Aesir seemed more cruel than for a human. And she wanted to fix it…if she could.

"You can shut your pretty little mouth," he growled. "Do you not think I know how quickly you forgot me? You are of use to me now as you always should have remained…as a hostage against my brother's good behavior. _He_ may value something of your irrelevance, but _I_ no longer do."

Jane's throat gave a quick, tight spasm. Somehow, the idea that her influence, her importance with Loki had disappeared during his imprisonment, was painful. Though he might have been able to forget her over time…she couldn't say the same for herself.

"I'm sorry," she said, despite the warning fingers she felt against her throat. "I should have tried to get here sooner, I should have asked Thor if I could speak at your trial—"

"Well-intentioned, Jane, if useless. As are most your efforts," she winced, "If there is one who cares less for human life than I, it is certainly the All-Father. Even if you had made it here at the time, you would not have been allowed to speak. And by some miracle, even if Odin had heard your words, he would have regarded them no more than the inane chittering of some jumped-up animal."

"You do him an injustice—" Thor said, only to be cut off once again.

"Do I?" Loki asked with a laugh, "Surely it's a coincidence then that you bring your lover here…only after Odin has disappeared?"

"How do you know about that?" the tension that Thor had forcibly kept from him was back. Jane couldn't help but feel it too. If Loki had truly been under the restraints Thor claimed, he should never have known of Odin's vanishing. And yet…Jane bit her lip and waited.

At least Loki loved to gloat. "I know what you want of me, Thor," Loki said, shaking his head. "I know everything. Did you truly think that you could keep me caged and ignorant? I, who have walked through the different planes that bind the many Yggdrasils together? Did you think I did not see the Convergence coming, would not be able to anticipate its effects?"

"Then tell us what we need to know," Thor growled, frowning darkly, "and leave off this empty crowing."

"But it has been so long, dear brother," she could hear Loki's self-satisfied smile, "you must allow me at least a few moments of triumph. And had you not brought Jane to me," he went on, "I might have been tempted to trade the knowledge of Odin's whereabouts for my release. But now, I need do nothing. Jane will accompany me until I feel secure you do not follow…and then, if I am feeling generous, I will let her return to you with the knowledge you seek."

"The hell you will," Jane cried, almost giggling as she felt Loki start behind her. Facing Thor still—Loki gave her no leeway to turn around—she said, "If you really knew where Odin was, you would have said so by now. He disappeared two weeks before Thor came to get me. If time was passing as slowly as you say, that's almost three months you sat on your hands and waited. Why?"

The brightness was back in Thor's eyes and a smile turned the corners of his mouth. "You always get more than you bargain for with Jane, brother."

"Don't I just?" Loki said, slowly. "And I'm beginning to find it rather tiresome. Even if she is right," and he started moving backwards, dragging Jane's reluctant heels easily across the cobblestoned floor, "she is still my hostage. You will let me go, or she will pay the price for your stubbornness."

"Thor brought me here to try and get you to help us," she spoke as quickly as she could, not thrilled at the prospect of being Loki's interstellar baggage, "so rather than take me hostage, can't we work something out? If you help me understand the Convergence, Odin will be so grateful he'll have to let you go."

Loki paused, and Thor must have seen some hesitation in his face because he stepped forward and said eagerly, "Listen to her, Loki. We need your help. What you would ask in return for Jane's safety, you could have in exchange for your assistance. Please," he held out a hand, "come with me to our mother and we will discuss terms. There is no need for this."

Loki's fingers danced restlessly on Jane's throat, lingering at her pounding pulse. He sounded uncertain as he said, "There is more to the Convergence than either of you know. I would be well away before it is upon us."

"If my research—and the research of other scientists—has shown anything, it's that the full effects of it aren't on us yet. We have anywhere between six weeks and two months." Jane put her and on his wrist, and he was relaxed enough for him to draw away the hand and turn to face him. "We solved the Skrull problem in two weeks, you and I," she said, so softly that Thor wouldn't hear, "please," and there was a flicker in his eye that was somehow like the Loki she remembered, "help me figure this out."

His eyes lingered on where her hand rested on his. They flickered to hers for a brief moment before he pressed his left palm against her wrist. There was a searing pain and a sickening smell of burning flesh, but when Loki's hand moved, Jane saw no sign of harm beside a tiny black rash.

"We will talk, Thor," he said, bland and business like over Jane's strangled scream, "but though I no longer have her by the throat, Jane's life still remains in my hands. If you betray me, or return me to my cell, this immolation spell will consume her before you could do a thing to stop it."

"Immolation?" she gasped, cradling her wounded wrist, "You'd burn me alive? No," she said numbly, shaking her head. "No, you wouldn't."

He smiled down on her. "Why, Jane…don't you trust me?"

()()()

The room Thor—and then Frigga, who had met them at the entrance to the dungeons—led Jane and her tall, dark shadow to was a fussy, overdone parlor somewhere in the center of the palace. Though it was still as fine a chamber as Jane could imagine in any castle on Earth, it had a distinct lack of that elegant, simple comfort that Frigga clearly favored. There were no windows for natural light, no fresh flowers on the tables, and the furniture was straight edges and dark woods.

Frigga had chosen a heavy armchair that stood with its back to the door; Loki sat opposite her on a long divan, one leg thrown casually over the other, while his long arms rested on the back of the seat. Thor sat to his mother's left, and Jane rounded out the square by taking the seat opposite him, as far from Loki and as close to Frigga as she could manage.

She sat on the edge of her chair, fighting the urge to cradle her spelled arm. Thor could barely keep himself from staring at it, and her, as though the knowledge of his silent support could drive the danger away. Jane didn't meet his eyes; his worry reminded her of her own.

The only person who looked at ease was, of course, Loki. He looked at each of them in turn with a faint smile breaking the smooth mask of his face. The smile deepened somewhat when he took in Thor's carven scowl, and faded when he met his mother's weary, disappointed eyes. Jane had no idea what expression he wore when he looked at her; every time he turned in her direction, she looked at Thor, or Frigga, or the floor.

The room was as cold and silent as a cave. When Frigga sighed, it echoed between them.

"Oh Loki," she said, shaking her head, "why must you always make things worse?"

"My dear mother," he replied, "I have said before and I shall say it again, you and I have vastly different definitions of the word. _My_ circumstances are nothing but improved. Though, of course, I apologize for the unkind position I have put you in."

"You mean, by threatening to kill her guest?" Thor put in, "A woman you once valued as you did no other person in her Realm?"

"We all make mistakes," Loki drawled. "I readily admit to having made more than my fair share."

"You are—" Thor rose to his feet, towering over the man who only looked up at him and let his smile widen.

"Thor," Frigga said, her outstretched hand and stern voice a command in and of themselves. When he sat down again, she turned to her other son. "What do you want of us, Loki, in return for lifting this curse?"

"I want what I have always wanted," he replied, leaning forward and fixing his mother with a hard-eyed stare, "What I always should have had. Odin will acknowledge his error in punishing me, and I will be granted my freedom."

"It'll be hard for Odin to apologize if no one can find him," Jane said, "Maybe it'll be better if you stick around long enough to help us."

He barely looked away from his mother. "For one who has suffered—and is likely to continue suffering—on the All-Father's behalf, you show a surprising amount of concern for him."

"I'm concerned about this Convergence," she said, "and its effects on the Realms. If things are going to get as crazy as it sounds, it'll be nice to have someone around who understands it."

"Eminently practical," he smiled, "as always. However, you really must learn at some point, Jane, that hostages are usually seen and not heard."

"Yeah…" she sighed. Frustrating as Loki was, and as frightened as the idea of her skin peeling off in a blinding sheet of flame made her, Jane had no intention of biting her tongue while these three people decided the course of her life. So she smiled back at him, and said, "How well did that work out the first time?"

_Now_ she had his full attention. But when his shadowed green eyes, narrowed like a panther's, settled on her, Jane's heart jumped and she wished—not for the first time in her life—that she had a little less pride, and could stand to keep her mouth shut.

His fingers twitched, the thumbs sliding against the forefingers. Jane remembered the callouses on his hands—and how they related to his magic—the instant before the burnt patch of skin on her wrist flared bright and sent a bolt of flame down to her bones.

"Don't push me Jane," he said, gently, and let his hands drop. "However, you are right, as you have the annoying habit of being." When he turned back to his mother, Jane breathed a silent sigh and wrapped a cool hand around her scorched skin. "So, what can you tell me about his disappearance that I might not already know?"

"It happened two weeks ago," Frigga said, standing as she spoke and taking a seat beside Jane. Her long fingers were cold and Jane almost moaned with relief when they prodded her wound and seemed to leech some of the heat away. "Odin was in the small council chamber, and when he rose to leave, he passed through the door ahead of his advisors. They emerged into the hall, and he was gone. Similar disappearances have been reported throughout Asgard, but as yet, our scientists can neither identify a pattern nor track where the vanished ones have gone."

"The same things have been happening on Earth," Jane put in, watching as her smoking flesh repaired itself under Frigga's quickly moving hands. By the time she was done, there was just a blackened circle the size of a dime; the evidence of a curse even Loki's mother could not erase. "Patches of stars in the Milky Way appear and disappear from night to night. People go missing at random places; those that come back tell us about landscapes and beings that don't exist. We believe they're traveling to other Realms."

"It is possible," Loki agreed, "the early symptoms of the Convergence mimic the chaos that is to come." The grin that spread over his face at the idea of chaos made Jane sick to her stomach. She remembered that smile; remembered it in her nightmares from those days of fear in New York, imprisoned in Stark Tower.

He hummed, the smile fading. He replaced it with false concern as he said, "Well, despite the many possibilities such turmoil offers, I fear that the Convergence will be devastating to a developing society like Midgard. There are too many people there I wish unharmed—until I harm them, that is. Very well," he said, leaning back and looking from Thor, to Frigga, to Jane, "I will help you locate the All-Father and prepare for the Convergence. But I require something…something _very_ nice, in return."

"Your freedom is not enough for you?" Thor asked. The frown that creased his face had not moved once during this entire interview. Clearly Jane was not the only one who was disappointed by the return to madness she saw in Loki.

"My freedom is my birthright," Loki snapped, "I should never have had to _earn_ it or _bargain_ for it. Lest you forget, Odinson, you are as guilty as I over the crimes of murder in other Realms. You nearly started a war with Jotunheim—"

"Which crime you compounded by genocide—"

"Only in attempting to save Aesir lives!" he cried, fury flushing his face as he slammed a fist into his knee. Jane tensed; Frigga extended a hand. But Loki made an effort and reined himself in. "This is…irrelevant. We both know that you will never be brought to account for your sins, even as I am pilloried for mine. So," he breathed deeply, and relaxed. "So in acknowledgment of that, I will require something that will free me forever from the fear of punishment from Odin."

"No," for once, Thor seemed to catch on faster than either Frigga or Jane. He shook his head, the frown smoothing out in amazement at Loki's audacity. "No. Our mother will never agree; Odin will never let you take it."

As soon as he said "it", Jane understood. She forgot her pain, she forgot everything in the terror of considering Loki—_this _Loki—free in the wide universe, with all the power of the Tesseract at his beck and call.

"And yet," Loki looked between Thor and Jane, slowly, "that is my price. Should I prove unable to mitigate its effects, this Convergence will bring enemies untold to Asgard's door, many of whom would like nothing more than to make me pay for my other crimes. If I agree to stay here and help, I must have the means to defend myself.

"Besides, Thor…" his smile—if possible—grew crueler, "Is there anything you would not do for the life of your mortal beloved?"

"Don't do that to him," Jane snapped, as she saw Thor falter and glance guiltily at her. "It's not as if I'd let you take the Tesseract either, regardless of what happened to me. You think I don't know that the moment you have it, you'll head straight back to Earth?"

"Not everything I do is in consideration of your precious Midgard," he sneered.

Frigga interrupted them all. Her quiet, clear voice somehow cut through all the contention in the room. Everyone looked at her ask she sat forward in her chair, fixed her unwavering eyes on Loki, and said, "While Odin is gone, I must rule with his thoughts in mind. He would never allow you to take such a powerful item."

Jane held her breath.

"Therefore, neither will I," Frigga concluded. She spared one soft look for Jane as she said, "I beg your pardon, Miss Foster. But you must realize that I cannot allow Yggdrasil to be at my son's mercy."

Her throat was tight and it seemed that taking another breath might be the last thing she would ever do, but Jane's voice hardly wobbled as she said, "I understand."

Loki's smile had vanished. His mouth set itself in harsh, straight lines as his eyes narrowed and he frowned. "Is that all, Lady Frigga, Queen of Asgard, All-Mother? You will not even pretend to comply with my terms? You would condemn a woman to death simply because she is too insignificant for you to sully yourself with a lie?"

"It is in your nature to lie, to fool, to play for time," Frigga answered, still grave and calm as a statue, "not in mine. I cannot, I will not give you any hope in this matter. While no living being is insignificant, I cannot weigh one person's life against the ten trillion souls that would then be yours to torment."

At her words, Loki seemed to fold inward. His careful façade of control was a memory; he bent his head almost to his knees. His long fingers, tight on his knees, trembled under the strain of holding himself back.

No one moved. No one spoke. Jane—though no stranger to death threats—didn't know what she was feeling. He hadn't killed her yet; with every moment that passed, she felt more and more certain that he would not do it. Maybe it made her a fool, but she just couldn't believe that the Loki who had confided in her, who had saved her, who had honored his promise to her, was totally gone. Jane didn't want him to be gone.

The agonizing wait finally ended. Loki looked up. His eyes were wild, bloodshot, and the smile he wore mocked himself instead of them.

He spoke to Frigga first, "Well played." A single gesture of his fingers, and the dark pucker of skin on Jane's wrist faded away. Then, to his brother, "I suppose this means we are both fools, Thor."

He stood; Frigga and Thor mirrored him, but Jane just sat, looking up at the face that never once glanced her way.

"I agree to help you locate Odin and lend my expertise to solving the riddle of the Convergence," Loki said, quietly. "But you will give me your word that once Odin has returned, nothing he says will condemn me to that cell once more. If I cannot have my security, I require my freedom."

"Granted," a hint of tenderness was back in Frigga's voice, and her eyes shone as she looked at her son, "I will swear an oath, if you require it."

He waved off the offer; he almost seemed not to hear it. "If you will excuse me."

With the barest hint of a bow, Loki moved past them and out of the room. For a moment, they all stood silent in the aftermath of a scene none of them could possibly have expected.

Frigga was the first to move. Addressing a guard at the door, she ordered him to follow Prince Loki—she did not strip him of the title—and ensure he had everything he needed. She turned to Jane, who still sat, shell-shocked, on the edge of her chair.

"Jane," her voice was soothing as her own mother's had been, "I must beg your pardon. I—"

Jane held up her hand, cutting off her apology. She'd heard too many from people required to make hard decisions. Nick Fury, Phil Coulson…even Thor. She knew the reasons behind each and every choice that had cut her off from what she loved or put her life in danger, but she was getting a little tired of hearing them.

"I'd just like to be alone for a minute, if you don't mind," her voice was still steady, but Jane could feel the breakdown coming.

Frigga nodded, and with a quick gesture at her other son, left the room. The other guard followed her out.

Jane could tell Thor wanted to say something, and she couldn't stand to hear the words she already knew. She just shook her head. "It's okay," it would save her time just to say what he needed to hear, "I'm okay. I just want to be alone for a while."

She should have looked at him; she should have smiled. He would need to see that she really forgave him, and words alone would never convince him. But she couldn't. So she heard, rather than saw, Thor leave the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

Alone in that vast, inhospitable room that echoed every shaky breath back to her ringing ears, Jane bent forward and rested her flushed face in that fussy, frilly, ridiculous skirt.

()()()

So, Loki's plan is revealed. As well as his reason for being so anxious to escape from prison.

Part of my reasoning behind this time change is Loki's attitude in _Thor: the Dark World_. I mean, not all that much time passed from the end of _Avengers_, but Loki was pissed…way much more than such a short time in prison would have made him. Especially since the beginning of the movie shows him still in contact with Odin and Frigga. His "appeals process" was clearly still going on. I wanted to take that away from him. By spending so much more time in prison, he's had time to lose all the ground he gained in _World Under Siege_. We'll see if he can get back to that point…

As always, please remember that fanfic is unpaid, save in appreciation from readers. Please leave a note if you enjoy. Also, feel free to follow me on Tumble at nofearofwaves. I always post my updates there.


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